


Of Glass Shards and Windshields

by StilinskiDreams



Series: Stiles Just Can't Stay Out of Trouble [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, Car Accidents, Derek-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain, Protective Derek, Protective Scott, Romance, Stiles-centric, Worried Derek, i love these characters you guys, so much pain, worried everyone tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 05:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StilinskiDreams/pseuds/StilinskiDreams
Summary: Hey guys! This is part two to my story "Of Gunshots and Rooftops". It could be a standalone, but there are several references to previous events. Stiles and Derek get into a car accident and Stiles is seriously injured. Derek takes care of him while trying to get help. Lots of angst and romance and definitely more humor than last time. I hope you like it!





	1. Chapter 1

“I still can’t understand why you refuse to get rid of this jeep.” Derek groaned as he was jostled in the passenger seat when Stiles ran over yet another pothole on the quiet, back-country road. Stiles smirked, hands resting lazily on the top of the steering wheel. 

“This jeep has been a loyal and faithful companion. Respect the jeep.” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “How many accidents have happened it this jeep? It’s bad luck. It’s cursed or something.”

“Hey, watch it. If you hate it so much you can walk the rest of the way home.” Stiles laughed as Derek playfully punched him on the shoulder. “Hey- you can’t assault the driver! That’s dangerous!” 

“Even if the driver deserves it?” Derek grinned at Stiles’ exaggerated expression of protest.

“I literally just made you dinner. I set the table and everything. I lit candles, Derek. CANDLES. Now I’m driving you home. I’m pretty sure that makes me boyfriend number one.”

“Fair enough.” Derek sat silently for a bit, smiling and relishing the moment. He was beyond grateful that they were still able to have moments like this. He couldn’t take it for granted. It’d been months since Stiles had been released from the hospital, but Derek still often caught himself sneaking glances to make sure that he wasn’t hurt in any way. He was pretty sure that Stiles noticed the glances too, but he didn't say anything. They didn’t talk about the kidnapping much, except during the panic attacks. The attacks usually hit in the middle of the night. Derek had started the habit of keeping his phone on full volume right next to his bed just in case. Usually Derek could talk Stiles through it on the phone until he calmed down, but if it was especially bad he would run over. Stiles apologized every time, over and over. Derek tried to get it into his head that he absolutely wanted to help and definitely did NOT want Stiles to stop “burdening” him with it. He just wanted Stiles to finally have some peace. Most of the time he was great. Bubbly, energetic… classic Stiles. When the anxiety hit, though, it hit hard. Derek had come to memorize the slight change in breathing and subtle look of impending terror in Stiles beautiful amber eyes when panic was about to strike. 

“What are you thinking about?” Stiles’ bright voice shook Derek out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“You have a dreamy look on your face.”

“Maybe I just have a dreamy face!” 

“No, that's not it.” 

Derek laughed and studied Stiles for a moment before finally responding. “You have really pretty eyes.” 

Stiles made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a giggle. “Thanks! I was lying before. You actually do have a dreamy face.” Derek chuckled before Stiles continued, “You know, when I first met you, I wouldn't have pegged you for the romantic softie type.”

“That's because we didn't like each other,” Derek stated bluntly, absently playing with Stiles’ hair as if to emphasize the irony. 

“Good point. Still, you aren't like this with other people.” Stiles gazed at Derek pointedly.

Derek leaned in to kiss Stiles on the cheek. “You're not other people.” Stiles was at a loss for how to respond. He gazed down the dim, narrow road for a while, fidgeting and looking slightly uncomfortable.

“I feel like I need to insult you now so that the balance is restored to the universe.” 

Derek laughed. “Come on, you can't insult someone with a face like this.”

“Oh my god… enough about the face!” Stiles sighed dramatically. Derek just grinned. Stiles expression suddenly became more serious. “Listen, Derek-”  
He cut himself off with a sudden, violent swerve in an attempt avoid the truck shooting out from an intersecting road to their left. They each saw it coming a second too late, and Derek barely had time to register the overwhelming impact before the jeep was skidding across the road and crashing into the ditch on the other side. The last thing he could remember was shouting Stiles’ name before he was plunged into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek hazily opened his eyes. He felt like he'd been asleep for hours but the surroundings were only marginally darker than he remembered. He had a splitting headache and he could feel multiple wounds in his body beginning to heal themselves. He winced as broken bones mended and torn muscles joined back together. It only took him a moment to remember what happened and he jerked his head toward Stiles.

“Stiles! Oh god…” The door was caved inward, forcing Stiles against the seatbelt and toward Derek. There was blood on the dashboard and the window was completely shattered, glass shards everywhere. Stiles had a gash across his forehead and several cuts on his arms. Derek could smell more blood than he could see, and that terrified him. Stiles was completely still. “No.. not again… please not again…” He unbuckled himself and slowly tried to inch toward Stiles without causing too much movement. He groaned at the sharp pain shooting through his arm as he reached up to put a hand on Stiles’ face. “Stiles. Wake up. Please. Stiles. You have to wake up.” Derek began desperately slapping his cheek and talking louder and louder until Stiles blearily opened his eyes. Derek almost cried with relief. 

“Derek?” Stiles’ eyes were glassy and unfocused. “Oh my god-” He cried out in pain as he tried to move closer to Derek.

“Don’t move. You’re injured.”

“So are you…”

“I’m healing. Try not to move, ok?”

“Hurts…” Derek's stomach dropped. Stiles never complained. Something had to be incredibly painful before Stiles would admit that he was hurt.

“Where? Stiles, where does it hurt?”

“My side… I think it's bleeding…” Derek swore. 

“I'm coming over to take a look, ok? Hold still.” Derek ignored the pain to the best of his ability as he opened his door and stumbled out to the other side of the jeep. He gripped the mangled driver side door by the handle and ripped it off if its hinges. His head spun as the scent of blood hit him square in the face. He gasped when he saw the source; a large, jagged piece of glass deeply pierced into the left side of Stiles’ abdomen. Blood was pouring out of the wound. Horrified, Derek quickly ripped off his jacket and gently pressed it up against the wound to try to staunch the flow of blood. Stiles moaned at the contact. “Shh… I’m sorry. What do I do? Stiles, what do I do?”

“I have to… get out... of this... position…too cramped…” Stiles took shuddering breaths with each word. Derek tried and failed to keep his composure. 

“I’m afraid to move you with the glass still inside of you. Should I-”

“Can’t take it out.” 

“Are you sure? If it keeps moving around-”

“Too much blood. You can't take it out.” Stiles' voice was quiet but firm. Derek felt a few tears drip down his cheeks, noting that Stiles seemed very determined to stay calm despite clearly understanding the reality of the situation.

“Ok. Ok. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to pick you up slowly and try not to jostle you at all and then I'll sit you down so you can lean back on the jeep. Can I do that?” 

Stiles took another shuddering breath and nodded. He slowly raised a shaky hand and pointed at Derek’s forehead. “You're bleeding.” 

Derek hadn't noticed and couldn't care less considering the circumstances. “I'll heal. You know that. I'm going to pick you up now, ok?” Stiles smiled softly and nodded again. As gently as he possibly could, Derek got a grip under Stiles’ knees and back and started to pull him forward. Stiles remained stubbornly quiet, although by the time Derek finished lowering him to the ground he had squeezed his eyes shut and tears were flowing steadily from them. Derek knew that Stiles was forcing himself to be so calm for his benefit. He couldn't do this. Not again. He absolutely could not go through this again… but he had to. He had to do whatever Stiles needed. He would do anything to save Stiles, and he would save Stiles. He gripped Stiles’ hand and started drawing his pain, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner. 

“Don't… you're hurt too…” Stiles whimpered, eyes still closed.

“I don't care. I can take it.” Derek gritted his teeth against the pain snaking it's way up his arms. He was starting to get lightheaded when Stiles pulled his hand away.

“Stop. Please. You need to stop.” Stiles was pleading, and Derek obeyed. Hot, angry tears stung his eyes. Stiles was alarmingly pale and a sheen of sweat covered his face despite the chilly night air. “Thank you.” Stiles looked like he was about to nod off, and Derek panicked and responded with a sharp slap on the cheek.

“Oh, no you don't. You're not doing this to me. I won't let you. You're going to make it through this. We're going to make it through this. Promise me?” Derek knew he was being ridiculous but he needed Stiles to say something, anything to convince him that this night wouldn’t end in tragedy.

Stiles spoke slowly and dazedly. “Promise. You might be onto something with that jeep.” 

Derek surprised himself by laughing out loud. “God… tell me you'll at least get rid of it now.” Stiles grinned weakly, one hand on his left side and the other holding onto Derek’s shirt, as if the tangible, physical connection to Derek would tether him to life. Derek moved to help him put pressure on the wound, but Stiles shook his head. 

“Call… 911…”

“Of course… how the hell haven't I done that yet? I'm sorry-” 

Stiles cut him off. “It's ok. Shock probably. You sure you're ok? Need a hug?” Derek leaned in and gave Stiles the most tender, gentle kiss he could muster before jumping up and peering back into the broken jeep to find his phone. What he found was the shattered remains of what used to be a phone and a more colorful side to his vocabulary that he previously hadn't known he possessed. He returned to see Stiles looking slightly amused. “Easy there, sailor. I have a phone too. It's in the back right pocket. Can you get it? I don't think I can.” Stiles was taking heaving breaths by the time he finished the sentence. Derek kissed him on the forehead and reached for his pocket, quickly pulling out the bloody piece of technology. He breathed a sigh of relief when the screen immediately lit up. 

“What's your passcode?”

“Sourwolf.” Stiles answered without missing a beat. 

“Are you serious?” Stiles laughed weakly and nodded. Derek unlocked the phone and immediately dialed. He waited. And waited. He swore and dialed again, and then tried Scott and the Sheriff and Lydia and 911 a few more times. “GODDAMNIT! There's no signal.” Stiles looked startled at the outburst, but he didn't respond. Derek gave up on calling and shot out a few quick texts to everyone he could think of:  
CALL 911  
STILES IS HURT  
NEAR THE PRESERVE  
IT'S BAD  
HELP - I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG HE HAS  
Derek watched as each text came flashing back to him with a ‘not delivered’ message. He swore under his breath.

“Derek?” Stiles glanced up at him tiredly. 

“It's alright, Stiles. It's going to be just fine. Scott will find us. He has our scents. Your dad will wonder where you are. Lydia will-” he stopped dead in his tracks before he could blurt out what had just come into his head. Stiles finished the sentence for him.

“Lydia will sense that I'm dying.”

“You're not going to die. Is that understood?” Stiles chuckled. 

“Yes sir.” He shifted himself slightly on the ground and cried out when new agonizing pain erupted in his side. He tried to bite back the scream but he couldn't, nor the uncontrollable weeping that followed. Suddenly the ground was spinning, the darkness was suffocating, and all of the oxygen seemed to be vacuumed from his lungs. He could feel every drop of blood leaving his body and he could just barely make out Derek’s expression of fear through his blurry eyes. Stiles panicked.


	3. Chapter 3

“It's ok. I've got you. It'll be ok. I'm gonna take more of your pain, ok? I've been healing more and more and I’m completely capable of taking your pain, I promise. Breathe with me, ok? Like this. Good. You're doing great.” Derek kept his voice as level as he could manage while taking Stiles’ pain with one hand and softly combing through his hair with the other. “I need to move the jacket a bit, ok?” The makeshift jacket-bandage hand fallen from the wound and blood was pouring freely again. It was a deadly amount of blood and Derek knew it, but he held the jacket steady and kept firm eye contact with Stiles. He refused to lose hope. Stiles trusted him and Derek would be there for him. Derek would take care of him. He had to. He wiped the tears from Stiles’ face and took as much of his pain as he could while continuously muttering encouragements and reassurances. Derek was crying himself, despite his best efforts to keep his cool for Stiles’ sake. Stiles’ body was wracked with tremors and he looked like any moment he might throw up or pass out. Derek just breathed slowly and evenly, gently encouraging Stiles to follow his lead. Eventually Stiles started to steady his breathing and loosen his death grip on the front of Derek’s shirt. He took several slow, steadying breaths before speaking. 

“Do you have any idea how perfect you are?” Derek was so caught off guard that he almost let go of Stiles’ hand.

“What?”

“Just… with all of this. Thank you.” Stiles gripped his hand tighter. Derek choked back a sob. 

“Of course. Always. You know I'm always here for you. How can I help? What can I do?” Derek waited impatiently for Stiles’ response. Stiles paused for a long moment, meeting Derek’s glistening eyes with a steady, hard gaze. 

“I'm in love with you.” Stiles smiled, as if enjoying the way the words sounded out loud. Derek stared, stunned. Nobody had ever said that to him. Not once. And this was Stiles.

“Stiles! I love you so much. You're everything to me. I love you. God, I love you.” Nothing made Derek spill his guts quite like a perilous situation. Stiles smiled wider.

“That's very good news. Otherwise this would have been super awkward.” Derek laughed and cradled Stiles’ pale face in his hands, bringing him into a kiss. Stiles shakily returned the kiss for as long as he could before pulling away to gasp for air. “Derek… it hurts…” Derek pulled away immediately. 

“What hurts? The kissing?” 

“Breathing...” Derek's heart sank. Stiles’ eyes were half-closed and each breath he pulled in was shallow and labored. His face was becoming paler and paler and there was a slight bluish tint to his lips. Derek couldn't help but think this wouldn’t have had to happen if Stiles had the bite. He'd thought it many times before but he fully respected and understood Stiles’ decisions. Besides, it would be too late now anyway. He was too weak. The bite would kill him if the blood loss didn't kill him first. Derek didn't know what to do besides continue to comfort Stiles with words and physical contact. Stiles instinctively leaned in toward the warm touch. 

“Don't move, Stiles-” 

“It's alright, Der. I'm ok.” It was an obvious and incredible lie. Derek wanted to scream. This couldn't be it. Stiles couldn't go through everything that he'd been through just to be killed by an idiot drunk driver. Derek could not lose him. He grabbed Stiles’ phone again and started furiously composing texts. He must have sent fifty before Stiles stopped him.

“It's ok, Derek.”

“It's not-”

“Derek. Listen-”

“No. No. Help is on the way and you are going to be just fine.”

“Der-”

“I won't argue about this!”

“Der…no…I…can't…I… can't...breathe….” Without another word his eyes slid shut and his head slumped forward onto his chest. 

“Stiles! Stiles?!” Derek frantically felt for a pulse and thought his own heart would stop when he couldn't find one. Without even thinking about what he was doing Derek laid Stiles down and started performing mouth to mouth the way Deaton had taught him. “Come on, Stiles- come on..” He pressed down on Stiles’ chest four times and returned to the breathing. He choked out a sob when Stiles gave no response. He repeated this cycle three more times before Stiles finally, finally pulled in a ragged breath for himself and opened his eyes. Derek sat back on the dirty ground and sobbed. Stiles was alive. He was still alive. Stiles coughed and gasped for air. Derek gently helped him to sit back up and laid him against his chest. He adjusted the jacket-tourniquet again, trying to ignore the blood soaking through it. Stiles’ heartbeat was faint, but it was there. He lay limp against Derek’s chest, breathing shallowly and slowly. He was completely unresponsive. Derek just held him. There was nothing else to do. 

A few minutes later Derek finally heard the sirens. Dozens of people with flashlights and shouting voices started running towards him. He picked Stiles up, kissed him on the forehead, and started stumbling toward them. The EMD's reached him first and gently took Stiles from his grasp. He reluctantly let go and stared as they started rushing him to the ambulance. He ignored the probing questions about his own health and breathlessly began speaking. “Drunk driver - slammed into the driver side - there's glass in his left side - I tried to stop the bleeding - I don't know how long I was out after the hit - he stopped breathing - I gave him mouth to mouth-” He stopped when he met Scott’s terrified eyes a few feet away. “Oh god, Scott… I'm sorry… I couldn't do anything…” Scott pulled him into a fierce hug and cried into his shoulder.

“Derek, I can't do this again-”

“I know, I know, I'm sorry…” Derek was interrupted by the EMD's shouting and the sheriff swearing in sync. Derek closed his eyes, waiting for the words that he knew were coming next.

“We're losing him. He's not breathing - get the defibrillator.” They worked quickly and forcefully, desperately swarming around his lifeless body. Derek couldn't see Stiles anymore; he could only hear the sound of the electricity attempting to jumpstart his heart. He held onto Scott for dear life and turned to see Lydia standing several feet away, looking petrified. She had a distant, tortured look in her eyes and when she lifted them to meet Derek’s gaze, he knew what was going to happen before it did. 

“Lydia, please no-”

She screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek really, really hated hospital waiting rooms. They were too familiar, too helpless and monotonous. He wanted to detach; to just slip into the depths of his subconscious and pretend that done of this was happening. Stiles was still alive. That was what the doctor said. He was alive. Derek wanted more. He wanted to know that Stiles was fine or great or maybe sitting up in bed drinking coffee and requesting to talk to him. Still, Stiles was alive. Only minutes earlier it had almost been over. His heart had stopped. He was gone. Lydia screamed for him. Derek glanced over at Lydia. She was leaning against Scott’s shoulder, exhausted. Derek couldn’t stop picturing the look in her eyes after she’d let out that terrible scream and fallen to her knees. Derek had wanted to go help her up but he couldn’t seem to tell his body what to do. He had been frozen to his spot on the grass, stunned. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even cry. The sheriff had his head in his hands but he made no noise. Scott looked just as paralyzed as Derek felt, but he found a way to snap out of it and guide Lydia to her feet. And Lydia… Lydia’s eyes… Derek had to force himself to look away from her. He couldn’t handle it. He just stood there, defeated until he just barely processed Scott violently shaking him by the shoulders and shouting into his ear.

“DEREK! Derek. Listen. Listen-” Derek tuned out the background noise around him and just focused on Stiles until he heard what Scott was referring to: a heartbeat. Then another and another. The EMD's were shouting but Derek couldn’t understand what they were saying. All he could hear was Stiles heartbeat. Lydia was weeping, Scott was holding her, and the sheriff looked like he’d just finished having a heart attack. Derek swayed and suddenly sat down on the grass, adrenaline completely gone. He could see Scott looking at him with concern, but he only focused on the sound of that beautiful heartbeat still going.

Scott’s anxious voice brought Derek back to the present of the brightly lit waiting area. “He’s going to be ok, right?” Derek couldn’t tell who he was directing the question toward. The sheriff looked up but he didn’t respond. Lydia just buried her head into Scott’s shoulder. Scott looked to Derek, desperate. Derek spoke with far more conviction than he felt.

“Hey, we’ve been here before, remember? He’ll be fine. Absolutely fine.” 

Scott smiled sadly. “Thanks Derek.” Derek knew that he was referring to more than just the encouragement, but he couldn’t help but think that he really didn’t deserve Scott’s gratitude. 

Lydia suddenly spoke for the first time since arriving at the hospital. “He’s right, you guys. Stiles is still here. He’s alive. It’s going to be fine.” The new look in her eyes revealed that she wasn’t only speaking as an optimist, but as a banshee.

Derek practically shoved Scott aside to give her a hug, and the sheriff finally smiled with relief. Scott was beaming with laughter as he pushed Derek away and slid back into his seat.

“Dude, I know you and Stiles have no concept of personal space but I do, and no offense but you could really use a shower.” Derek laughed and rolled his eyes.

“I wish we could go see him.” The others nodded in agreement. The sheriff glanced up at the front desk, impatient for some news. Scott and Lydia tried to distract themselves by watching the television on the wall. Derek finally relaxed for the first time since he woke up in the broken jeep.


	5. Chapter 5

It was late the next day when Stiles opened his eyes again. “Derek?”

“Stiles! Oh, thank god, Stiles-”

“Derek, what-”

“You're ok. The doctor says you'll be ok. You've had some emergency blood transfusions and you had surgery to remove the glass, but you're going to be fine. You're ok. You're ok.” He was crying and staring at Stiles as if he were a ghost. Stiles stared at him for a long moment. 

“What happened?” 

Derek sighed heavily and wiped at his eyes. “Your heart stopped. I thought… Lydia screamed and… I thought you were gone…” Stiles slowly sat up, leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“Not going anywhere. Promise.” 

“You promised that you wouldn't die.”

“I didn't die.”

“You died for a few seconds.”

“Yeah, but I came back.”

“You flatlined.”

“But I didn't die, so I technically didn't break my promise. My honor is still intact.” Stiles smiled and Derek mentally thanked every god he could think of that he was still able to see that beautiful smile. 

“Don't do that again.” Derek frowned, but it didn't reach his eyes.

“I was totally going to, but I won't now because you said that.” Derek let himself laugh. Stiles let a few tears fall. “You saved me, Der. I'll never be able to thank you enough.” 

“You're damn right about that.” 

Stiles laughed, surprised. “Geez… I'm trying to be sappy here.” Derek kissed him again.

“We have plenty of time for that.” He started moving to keep kissing until he heard the undeniable sound of the Sheriff clearing his throat in the doorway.

“Want to save some visiting for the rest of us?” Stiles giggled as Derek’s face turned bright red. The Sheriff walked to the bed, closely followed by Scott, Lydia, and Melissa. “You scared me, kid. I'm so glad you're ok!” 

Stiles smiled. “Me too, dad. How did you find us?”

“Some of Derek’s texts finally went through, thank God.” Stiles looked at Derek, who hadn't torn his gaze from Stiles’ face. Scott spoke next.

“Dude, you have to stop doing this. I need to watch you at all times or something. Don't do that again. Ok?” Scott’s watery smile broke Stiles’ heart. He looked him firmly in the eyes and nodded. Lydia sat down and grabbed his hand.

“I screamed for you. I'm not doing that again. Ever.” Her eyes were sparkling with tears. 

“I'm sorry Lydia.” She sighed and leaned in to hug him. 

“Stiles, do you need anything? Pain meds? Water?” Melissa's voice was calm and warm. “By the way, I'm mad at you too but I still have to perform my nurse duties.” 

Stiles laughed. “I'm just tired.” 

She checked his bandages and turned to the others. “He needs rest.” They reluctantly stood and started heading for the door. 

“We'll be back soon, ok?” Lydia smiled warmly and hugged him again.

“Thanks Lyds.” 

Scott moved in for the next hug, being careful to be overly gentle. “No dying while we're gone.” Stiles chuckled.

“Scott, I'm pretty convinced at this point that I'm literally incapable of dying.”

Stiles dad leaned down to hug him and by the time he pulled away his face was wet. “Get some good rest.” 

“I will, dad.” Stiles watched them each walk out, already wanting to be with them again despite the urge to go to sleep. Derek was the last to get up.

“Are you alright by yourself?” Stiles smiled up at him. 

“I'm not by myself. I'm never by myself. You guys won't leave me alone.” 

Derek laughed. “Good.”

“Derek, could you do something for me?”

“Of course! Anything! What do you need?” Derek looked worried and started eyeing Stiles up and down as if to analyze whatever needs he could possibly have. Stiles stared back, completely deadpan.

“I think I'll be needing new windows for the jeep.” 

Derek somehow laughed and groaned simultaneously. “Like hell. I swear, if I ever see that thing again-” 

Stiles cut him off. “-it'll be too soon? Look at this. We finish each other's sentences. How romantic.” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “For the love of God-”

“Come on, Sourwolf! We always have our most romantic moments while I'm in the hospital, remember? Last time you asked me out. The standard is pretty high now, buddy.” 

“Fine. I'll cook you dinner when you're released from the hospital.” 

“I don't believe for one second that you're capable of cooking dinner.”

“Is that so?” Derek looked amused. Stiles smirked.

“I'm skeptical, but I've been wrong before. It's extremely rare, but it happens. Amaze me.” Stiles grinned again as Derek laughed. 

“Whatever. I'll see you in a bit.” Derek started standing up again. Stiles could feel himself starting to fall asleep. Derek moved towards the door. 

“Der?”

“Yes?”

“Love you.” Derek paused and turned his head back to Stiles. 

“Love you too. Get some sleep.” He smiled and walked out into the hall. Not even a full minute later he was back, looking sheepish. “I don't know how they expect me to just leave you alone in here.”

Stiles laughed softly. “Then don't.”

Derek smiled, satisfied and moved to sit on one of the plastic chairs by the bed. “Are you sure? I can go if you want me too.” Stiles responded only by slowly moving over on the bed and gesturing for Derek to join him. Derek kicked his shoes off and gently climbed onto the small bed, lying back and putting an arm around Stiles. He closed his eyes and listened to the steady, mesmerizing rhythm of Stiles’ heartbeat. He'd never heard a better sound.

Stiles felt so warm, so comfortable. He was safe. Maybe hospitals weren't always so bad. He looked up at Derek who seemed to be asleep already. He smiled fondly and curled up against him, thanking him internally for everything that he'd done to keep them safe. Stiles smiled again, knowing that he'd have a far less panicked night with Derek right next to him. He felt drowsiness drawing him in and he soon fell into the best sleep he'd had in weeks. 

THE END


End file.
